


Up in Smoke

by Shearmouth



Series: (Beats back Writer's Block with a Stick) Whumptober 2020! [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Abduction, Gen, Hurt Edward Elric, Hurt Roy Mustang, Parental Roy Mustang, Whumptober 2020, this is an old fandom with a quiet fanbase but i dont care im still a slut for FMAB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shearmouth/pseuds/Shearmouth
Summary: Whumptober 2020 Day 1: Waking up Restrained"When he woke in darkness with rope tight around his wrists, Ed’s first thought was, 'Oh, come on.'He so did not want to deal with this today."An old grudge against his bastard CO throws Ed into the line of fire.
Relationships: Edward Elric & Roy Mustang
Series: (Beats back Writer's Block with a Stick) Whumptober 2020! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947829
Comments: 26
Kudos: 367
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Up in Smoke

**Author's Note:**

> I return! My writing brain has been fried all summer. It's still a little fried. Finishing my undergraduate thesis in the midst of a pandemic just about killed me. But it's Whumptober and I want to get back in the saddle. Have some Ed being a demon and Roy being a dad!

When he woke in darkness with rope tight around his wrists, Ed’s first thought was, _Oh, come on._

He _so_ did not want to deal with this today. He and Al had just returned that day from a month-long mission in the South, after all, and Ed _still_ had sand in places it didn’t belong. The thought of a hot shower and a soft bed was all that had sustained him through the 7-hour train ride.

And now here he was tied to– he wiggled a bit as awareness returned, sussing out his surroundings–a chair, with the Eastern Command Military Band apparently having taken up residence inside his skull.

Jeez, what _happened?_ He and Al had arrived in East City around ass o’clock at night, Al wanted to follow a lead in the library, so Ed caught a cab to their dorm…

His memory cut out there. Just the image of black seats and streetlights, then nothing.

Ed growled in irritation, and bright, shocking pain shot through his head. He swallowed a yelp and hunched reflexively.

Then froze when someone groaned in the darkness behind him.

Ed felt movement against his shoulders and head. He tensed, sharpening his hearing. 

“ _Ugh…_ God damn it, Maes. One drink. You said _one drink,_ you lying son of a–“

Ed spluttered. “ _Colonel?”_

“…Fullmetal? Is that you?”

No. No no no. Ed groaned loudly. “Oh, come _on._ Of all the people to be tied to a chair with, it had to be you.”

“Nice to see you too, Fullmetal, welcome ba– did you say tied to a _chair?”_ Mustang sounded groggy, and almost as done with life as Ed felt.

“Yeah, no shit.” Ed jerked against his bonds to emphasize his point. “Did they not teach situational awareness when you were in the academy?”

“Hilarious.” He felt Mustang shift behind him, testing the limits of their capture. “In my defense, I was in _bed_ last I checked. You know. Like a normal person.”

“’Normal’ is debatable,” Ed snarked. His eyes had begun to adjust to the vague dimness of wherever they were. He started taking stock of himself. His forearms lashed to the arms of a sturdy seat, and when he tested his legs, he found his ankles were bound too. He and Mustang must be positioned back to back, mirroring each other.

“At least I’m a proper height for my age,” Mustang said nonchalantly.

“Why, you–“ Ed swung his head back and managed to clip the base of Mustang’s skull with his own, earning an indignant grunt.

Unfortunately, he’d somehow forgotten his apparent head wound. Pain exploded behind Ed’s eyes. He yelped and curled inward, riding out the sudden swell of nausea.

“Fullmetal? What’s wrong?”

Ed couldn’t answer. Mother _fuck,_ his head hurt. It felt like he’d been impaled on one of Al’s shoulder spikes.

“Fullmetal!” The Colonel actually sounded a little frantic.

“I’m fine,” Ed groaned. “Just my head. They must’ve knocked me out.”

Mustang twisted behind him. He tsked. “I can’t see the whole wound, but there is a lot of blood in your hair.”

Ah. So that’s why his neck and shoulders were all sticky.

“Awesome. Well, I was going to wash it tonight anyway.” Ed slumped back and gingerly rested his aching head against Mustang’s back.

“I’m not your headrest,” the Colonel growled, shifting uncomfortably. 

“Yeah? And what exactly are you going to do about it?” Ed half-grinned.

“When we get out of here, I _can_ and I _will_ put you on latrine cleaning duty.”

“You wouldn’t though. How else would I write my report in time?”

“Your reports are never on time!”

Ed scowled. “Touché.” But the threat of scrubbing the stinky bathroom tiles of Eastern Command couldn’t seem to break through his exhaustion. He closed his eyes, sighing. His body felt unusually heavy, and a soothing darkness was pulling him into the ground.

“Fullmetal? You all right?”

“Just…taking a minute…”

Mustang’s back abruptly disappeared. Ed’s eyes flew open as he caught himself from snapping backward. He growled. “What the hell, Mustang?”

“Don’t pass out.” Mustang sounded grim. “Sleep doesn’t mix well with concussions. Besides, we’ve been abducted, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Ed snarked. “How could I forget?”

Mustang gave a longsuffering sigh. “For once, please use your considerable wit to help us get out of here instead of shaving years off my lifespan.”

Ed just groaned petulantly. Even though he and the Colonel were jabbing at each other as they would on any other day, worry had begun to gnaw in Ed’s gut. It was hard to think, his head pounding behind his eyes, and given the slow slide of warmth down the back of his neck, his head wound was still bleeding.

He it made him uneasy that whoever these people were, they’d managed to catch both him and Mustang unawares. He knew for a fact that it was hard to get the drop on the Colonel.

(He’d tried once, with Havoc. Just a friendly little office prank. They were both lucky to keep their eyebrows.)

Ed blinked hard, trying to push his thoughts in a helpful direction through the sludge of his sodden mind. “You said you were out with Hughes before this?”

Mustang made a questioning noise. “Yes. We went and had a drink. It’s been a long week.”

“What time did you get home?”

Mustang paused. “Around eleven, I believe.”

“Did you take a cab back?”

“Yes. What are you getting at?”

Ed frowned thoughtfully. “I took a cab from the train station. I think we pulled in around midnight. I was heading back to the dorms; Al went to the library. And if Mr. Hughes knew you were heading home…”

“…No one has any reason to believe we’re missing,” Mustang finished. “At least until I fail to show up in the office tomorrow. Great.” Mustang paused. “And you have a head injury.”

Ed scowled. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh.” Mustang sounded less than convinced.

“Look, let’s just worry about getting out of here, yeah?” Ed snapped. He couldn’t stand Mustang’s control-freakishness on a good day. And today was shaping up to be a decidedly not-good day.

“Fine,” Mustang said. “Look around and tell me what you see on your side.”

Ed scanned their surroundings again. They were in what seemed to be a single large room, with odd curving walls that were streaked with black. Ed was facing a door. He could make out dense wood, but the locking mechanism had to be on the outside, because he couldn’t see a thing he could pick from in here.

“There’s a door, but it looks pretty tough. There’s no lock on this side.” Ed scanned the floor. It was packed earth, with no trace of footsteps. “I’m not seeing much, Colonel. Anything helpful over there?”

“There’s a vent near the roof,” Mustang said, “but it’s slatted and only about a foot square. It’s giving us some light, at least.” He sniffed the air. “I smell smoke. Coal smoke, I think.”

“How the hell can you tell the difference between _smokes?”_ Ed asked skeptically.

“I’ve been doing flame alchemy for years, Fullmetal,” Mustang deadpanned. “Give me some credit.”

“Never.”

Ed closed his eyes and spread his senses outward. Now that Mustang mentioned it, there was a vague burning scent in the air. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t figure out what.

The answer came a second later, when a familiar whistle sounded in the distance.

“Train,” they said in unison.

Well, that gave them a rough location, at least.

“Given the curve of the wall and the smell,” Mustang said, “I think we’re in an empty coal storage house.”

“The ones on the western outskirts?” Ed had seen the odd domed buildings from the train whenever he and Al journeyed to Central. They always gave him a weird, uncomfortable impression, reminding him of huddled animals sheltering on the rough-edged border of the city.

“They stopped using these years ago,” Mustang said. “They rebuilt new storage facilities closer to the main station. We’re a good three miles outside of East City.”

“Fantastic,” Ed groaned. “So we’re really on our own.”

“It’s a clever place to take us,” Mustang admitted grudgingly. “This is not a frequented area. Even if anyone could hear us screaming, it would be covered by the sounds of the train.”

“Could you not workshop how screwed we are right now and start working on a solution?” Ed said, exasperated.

Before Mustang could answer, footsteps sounded outside. The lock rattled.

Mustang stiffened behind him. Ed stared at the door.

There was an loud creak, and weak light flooded the room. Ed squinted as his eyes throbbed. A figure stepped inside their features obscured by the outside glare. They shut the door behind them, soaking the room in shadow once more.

“Who’s there?” Mustang called authoritatively. “Identify yourself!”

Footsteps scuffed along the ground, crossing around them to stop before Mustang. A lamp flared on.

“Oh, come now, Colonel,” a smug voice that immediately grated on Ed’s nerves said, “you must recognize me.”

The tension in Mustang’s shoulders ratcheted tighter, but his voice was steady and casual when he said, “Jason Dodsworth. You should be in prison.”

“I was well-behaved enough to earn parole. It’s good to be out in the world again.” 

“Mustang, you know this guy?” Ed hissed. He craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse of their captor, but the most he could see from the corner of his eye was a pair of mud-stained boots.

“I must give you credit for this, Dodsworth,” Mustang said glibly, ignoring Ed entirely. “I didn’t expect a lowlife crime boss such as yourself to pull off a capture like this.”

There was the thick thud of a fist meeting flesh. Mustang’s head snapped back, knocking into Ed’s and making him bite down to muffle a gasp of pain.

“Mind your tongue, Mustang,” Dodsworth snarled. “For once you’re not in a position to mouth off. I’ve got you and your brat subordinate at my mercy. The ransom states I’ll return you alive, but not necessarily in one piece.”

Ed heard Mustang crack his jaw before rolling his head forward. “So that’s what this is about? Ransom?” The bastard almost sounded bored. “You do realize the military doesn’t negotiate with terrorists?.”

“Maybe not,” Dodsworth said, “but something tells me they might reconsider if I tear off the Fullmetal brat’s arm and send it to your lieutenant.”

Ed’s stomach dropped.

“He has nothing to do with this.” For the first time, Mustang’s voice was steely.

“Does he not? The ‘People’s Alchemist,’ isn’t he? The youngest State Alchemist in history holds quite a bit of sway among the public these days. Would be quite unfortunate if they were to find out the military let him die. And when I found out he was your protégé, oh, it was almost too good to be true. Kill two dogs with one stone, as it were. I’ll finally get my revenge against you and the accursed military for shutting down my operation!”

“You’re a fool,” Mustang snapped. “There are protocols in place for when idiots like you try to extort the military.”

“You know,” Dodsworth said, and god _damn_ the smirk in his voice made Ed want to feed him his teeth, “I’m not sure the arm will be enough. Maybe we should send your hand along as well. Cripple those little fireworks of yours, wouldn’t it?”

Mustang’s back was a wall of stone behind Ed.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Oh, come on, are you for real?” Ed said it with as much obnoxiousness as he could, which, according to every adult who’d ever met him, was quite a lot. “You don’t have any more imagination than that?”

“Be silent, Fullmetal!” Mustang hissed. He sounded genuinely pissed, but under it was fear. 

“Seriously, dude,” Ed plowed on, “did you take your whole schpeel out of the dumb criminal handbook? Revenge? Ransom? Sending the Colonel’s hand to the military? You’re fucking pathetic. They’re not gonna bite and you know it.”

Dodsworth rounded the chairs and swung the lantern into Ed’s face. Illuminated now, Ed could see that Dodsworth was pale-faced, watery-eyed man, with a stocky frame wrapped up in surprisingly fine clothes. Little bitch even had a tie clip. 

“So you really are as annoying as they say.” Dodsworth narrowed his eyes and leaned in close to Ed’s face. “You’re the fool if you think I’m going to let a child goad me into–“

Ed slammed his head into Dodsworth’s nose.

It landed with a satisfying crunch. Dodsworth yelled and wheeled back, clutching his face.

“You fucking brat!” he snarled, lowering his hands. Blood poured from a misaligned nose. Rage twisted his features.

“Gotcha,” Ed smirked, even as he cringed internally for what was coming. 

Dodsworth drew back his fist. Ed braced himself just before white-hot pain imploded behind his eyes.

ººº

Roy felt the blow land more than heard it. Ed snapped back against him, then crumpled forward without a sound.

“Fullmetal?” Roy called, alarmed. “Hey, Fullmetal, answer me!”

“Looks like he’s not as tough as they say, Mustang.” Dodsworth left the lantern on the floor and came back around to Roy’s side. Blood drenched the bottom of his face like a half-mask. His expensive suit was ruffled, and his tie hung askew. Mustang wanted to laugh at his state. God knew Ed could heckle even the most poised men until they trembled with rage and turned red in the face. Roy seen it happen many times– and written numerous subsequent letters of apology to certain higher-ups. (Even when they had deserved whatever Ed had thrown at them and Roy had secretly approved. Not that he would ever tell Hawkeye that.)

Now, though, it wasn’t funny.

“You piece of shit,” Roy snarled. “He wasn’t even a State Alchemist when we arrested you!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dodsworth said. “Your team ruined my operations, Mustang. I’ve spent the last five years languishing in a cell, all the while planning my payback to you. This is my comeuppance.”

“If you’re ransoming us,” Mustang said, trying not to focus on how utterly still Ed was behind him, “you need us alive. If you tear off Fullmetal’s automail, he could die.” Al had explained it to him once, the intricate mechanisms of Ed’s prostheses. Most of it went over his head, but the bottom line was, enough trauma to the ports could shut down Ed’s nervous system. “Plus, if you cut off my hand, I could bleed to death.”

“Operative word being ‘could,’” Dodsworth said. “I think we’ll do yours first, actually. Your gabbing is annoying me.”

Dodsworth reached into his suit jacket and produced a large, single-bladed knife, serrated near the hilt. Roy felt the blood leave his face.

He’d been in bad situations before, sure. But with how utterly trapped they both were, panic was starting to rise in Roy’s throat.

“Dodsworth,” Roy said with a calm that belied his fear, “you don’t need to do this.”

“Maybe not.” Dodsworth grinned. “But I want to.”

He placed the blade against Roy’s right wrist.

Roy couldn’t help it– he thrashed against his bonds. Nothing gave.

Dodsworth pressed down hard. The knife bit into Roy’s wrist.

And an automail fist swung around and landed hard on the back of Dodsworth’s skull. The criminal fell like a sack of rocks.

Blood was pouring from his wrist, but Roy twisted around frantically. “ _Fullmetal_?”

“God,” Ed snarked behind him, “what a dickhead.” Roy felt the kid moving behind him, heard the sound of ropes falling to the floor.

“How– how–“ Roy stammered. Adrenaline was still rushing through him, tangling his tongue.

Ed stood. He rounded the chairs and started untying Roy’s hands. Now that he had a real look at the kid, Roy saw he really did look like shit. A fresh bruise was blooming around his eye. Blood coated his neck and matted his hair. But when he looked up at Roy his gold eyes were bright with mischief. He grinned and revealed– was that a _tie clip–_ between his teeth.

“I got this when I head-butted him,” Ed explained. He finished freeing Roy’s hands and started on his shins. “I couldn’t bite through the ropes, but the clip was sturdy enough I could use it to loosen the knot. Then I pulled them apart the rest of the way with my teeth.”

Roy blinked. Sometimes he forgot just how brilliant– and feral– his youngest subordinate could be.

“Which means,” Ed continued, “I saved your sorry ass. Which means you owe me lunch.”

That shook roy from his stunned stupor. “Oh, do I?”

“Yes. You save someone’s life, they owe you lunch. Those are the rules.”

“Those rules shouldn’t apply when it’s your superior officer–“

Roy had bent over to undo his other leg. From his angle, and in the dark of the coal building, he failed to notice Dodsworth stirring until he barreled into Ed and pinned him to the ground by his throat.

“You FUCKING BRAT!” Dodsworth roared.

 _No, no, shit!_ They were too far away for Roy to reach, and he was still pinned to the chair by his left leg. He tore at the bonds frantically.

Ed writhed under Dodsworth, clawing and kicking, but the criminal had two feet and a good hundred pounds on him.

“You…” Dodsworth snarled. “Someone needs to knock you down a few pegs, you insolent wretch. I ought to beat you. Take a good thick belt to your back. Maybe that would teach you not to run your mouth to your superiors–”

The last of the rope fell away. In one fluid movement, Roy surged up, lifted the chair, and shattered it against Dodsworth’s head.

Dodsworth collapsed on top of Ed, nearly covering him. Roy growled in anger and yanked the criminal to the side, kicking him in the temple for good measure.

Ed gasped and started coughing harshly. His face was flushed red and fresh blood leaked down his temple.

Roy lifted Ed carefully and propped him upright to help him breathe, bracing him against his side. “Easy, easy, just breathe, Fullmetal.”

“Did–did you–“ Ed heaved, “hit him with– a fucking chair?”

“Yes, I did.” And it was profoundly satisfying.

Ed grinned, that sharp-toothed smile that usually promised trouble and a new stack of paperwork on Roy’s desk. “ _Awesome.”_

For a moment they sat there, both catching their breath. Roy tore a few strips of cloth from his undershirt and folded them into a pad. He pressed it against the bleeding wound on Ed’s temple.

“Ow!” Ed batted at his hand.

“Put some pressure on it and stop whining.” Roy passed the pressure dressing off to Ed, then wrapped his own bleeding wrist, hissing. He then gathered up the ropes and hogtied Dodsworth, who was fortunately (or unfortunately), still alive, but out like a light. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Go?” Ed scowled from where he sat, bloody but petulant. “Can’t we just call Lieutenant Hawkeye to come get us?”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “You see a phone booth around here?”

Ed’s eyes widened in horror. “Wait, you mean we have to walk all the way back? We’re miles outside of the city!”

“I doubt Dodsworth brought a car, it would’ve been too conspicuous. He was likely dropped off. So, yes.”

Ed groaned dramatically. “Well, fuck.”

“Language,” Roy said cheekily.

“Shut up, bastard.” Ed started to struggle to his feet. Roy scooped his elbows under Ed’s shoulders and helped him up.

“You know, Dodsworth might’ve been onto something about not mouthing off to your superiors…”

“I _will_ kill you,” Ed muttered, though the effect was dampened when what color was left in his face drained away and he swayed dangerously.

Roy steadied him, then draped Ed’s flesh arm across shoulders. They staggered through the door into a weak dawn. The lights of East city glittered in the distance.

“Hey Colonel.”

Roy looked down at Ed, who was grinning goofily. “You sure you don’t just want to catch a cab?”

“Hell no!”


End file.
